aire is ready to make desperate oath, if needful. We
said once, M. de Voltaire was not given to lying; far the reverse.
But yet, see, if you drive him into a corner with a sword at his
throat,--alas, yes, he will lie a little! Forgery lay still less in his
habits; but he can do a stroke that way, too (one stroke, unique in his
life, I do believe), if a wild boar, with frothy tusks, is upon him.
Tell it not in Gath,--except for scientific purposes! And be judicial,
arithmetical, in passing sentence on it; not shrieky, mobbish, and
flying off into the Infinite!

Berlin, of course, is loud on these matters. "The man whom the King
delighted to honor, this is he, then!" King Friedrich has quitted Town,
some while ago; returned to Potsdam "January 30th." Glad enough,
I suppose, to be out of all this unmusical blowing of catcalls and
indecent exposure. To Voltaire he has taken no notice; silently leaves
Voltaire, in his nook of the Berlin Schloss, till the foul business get
done. "VOLTAIRE FILOUTE LES JUIFS (picks Jew pockets)," writes he once
to Wilhelmina: "will get out of it by some GAMBADE (summerset),"
writes he another time; "but" ["31st December, 1750" (--OEuvres de
Frederic,--xxvii, i. 198); "3d February, 1751" (ib. 201).]--And takes
the matter with boundless contempt, doubtless with some vexation, but
with the minimum of noise, as a Royal gentleman might. Jew Hirsch is
busy preparing for his new desperate Action; getting together proof that
the Jewels have been changed. In proof Jew Hirsch will be weak; but in
pleading, in public pamphlets, and keeping a winged Apollo fluttering
disastrously in such a mud-bath, Jew Hirsch will be strong. Voltaire,
"out of magnanimous pity to him," consents next week to an Agreement.
Agreement is signed on Thursday, 26th February, 1751:--Papers all to
be returned, Jewels nearly all, except one or two, paid at Hirsch's own
price. Whereby, on the whole, as Klein computes, Voltaire lost about 150
pounds;--elsewhere I have seen it computed at 187 pounds: not the least
matter which. Old Hirsch has died in the interim ("Of broken heart!"
blubbers the Son); day not known.

And, on these terms, Voltaire gets out of the business; glad to close
the intolerable rumor, at some cost of money. For all tongues were
wagging; and, in defect of a TIMES Newspaper, it appears, there had
Pamphlets come out; printed Satires, bound or in broadside;--sapid,
exhilarative, for a season, and interesting to the